


The werewolf and the incubus

by Raindrenchedstories



Category: Fandomless, Original Work
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Healthy Relationships, Humor, Interchangeable Genitalia, Original Character(s), Other, Werewolf, female werewolf - Freeform, incubus, some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27787681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raindrenchedstories/pseuds/Raindrenchedstories
Summary: When personalities click, they don't come loose. Pam didn't expect her new room mate to be the one she felt a connection with, but in hindsight it wasn't surprising. He was certainly her type. On Sleat's end, he wasn't really looking at all for a relationship. It wasn't that he didn't like the idea of it. Spending time with someone that understood and cared about you. But his kind didn't really DO that. So it was an equal surprise when they both ended up falling into each other's laps.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Female Character/Original Non-Binary Character





	1. I just wanted to bring you soup!

"So in short... I need you to look after my former lawyer even though I know you have no reason to." The scarred woman sat with her mug of tea desperately clamped between her hands. The iron scent of blood rested heavy in the air, but Pam didn't really pay it any mind. She'd watched this woman do some impressive self healing in the past. So it wasn't as though she needed the help. At least with this. But what she was asking was a bit much. It did mean something that Holly was willing to add to her life debt for this man, but Pam wasn't exactly prepared for this. She stuck her tongue over her own tea, found it was finally an acceptable temperature and sucked down a deep sip.

Her eyes scanned over to the bundled up being on her patient sofa. With a sigh she waved a careless hand. "I can see your problem. But I don't actually know this guy Holly. The fact that he's an incubus doesn't help matters much. He needs to feed off some very specific energies I just can't provide." Pam winced. "And he can't exactly heal if he doesn't feed."

"This I know... He's got that part under control so don't worry too much about- Wait. What happened t o Grigore?" Holly blinked. Pam winced. Grigore was a nice guy and the pair had resonated well with one another. Both being werewolves and both being inclined towards medicine and healing. However, they never really clicked beyond pack mates. They tried, but they just couldn't bond that way. Pam never felt she could leave herself entirely open to him, and that sentiment was shared in kind. It made something as intimate as lovemaking into a fucking brawl. Literally. Neither of them felt great afterward, and always ended up terrified of each other for a week.

"It... didn't work. We're still pack, though. Just couldn't connect that way." She fell deeper into her cup. Holly patted her hand reassuringly. A rare kindness from the hardened soldier. Still, the woman was a wife and mother beyond the brutality. Pam shook it off and smirked. "Besides. Have you seen the heat that man's packing? I think he gives most bulls a run for their money. Add a particular lythrocopic trait to it and..."

"Ouch." Holly winced, diving into her tea with a scarlet blush. Pam burst into laughter at that.

There was a soft whine from the rolled up blankets on the sofa. Pam cued in on it, listened to the slow heartbeat, and light breath. He was in pain. With a quick motion, she entered her cupboard from the table and pulled out an old powder. Their world was one of magic and myth. Of forces well beyond the age of herbs and human remedies. But there were no spells for curing illness or soothing pain alone. Just magic to encourage the natural healing process to speed. That was what Pam had studied for. Being a werewolf, she couldn't work in the hospitals. Places you only went to when you were on the brink of death. But she could run her little clinic from the dirt water town she'd settled in. Thanks to Holly, she could not only run it, but she could flourish. Pam would have resented it more if the context was any different.

She turned the man on his back and sighed. Gently prying his fanged mouth open. Her eyes bulged a bit at the fact those teeth retracted. The extra saliva was also a little bit of a surprised. She poured the bitter medicine onto the roof of his mouth and shut it. Thankfully, Concubi had a natural swallow reflex. Which Pam absolutely did NOT think about. No thinking about it. No... Dammit. She was flushed several shades of red. Holly pretended not to notice. "This... Isn't going to work." She huffed.

"Believe me, I get it. I just... Don't know where else to bring him. My brother in law lives with a BUNCH of beasties his natural pheromones' would wreak havoc on. Well, the one. I don't trust Middy anywhere NEAR him. She'd corrupt his little mind. Or the other way around." Pam tried to recall who the hell 'Middy' was. The name came up blank save for the memory of cats. Her nose wrinkled. "The other brothers in law all have their issues. My own family is notorious for fucking anything with a pulse. Sometimes without. I thought you and Grigore were bonded so-"

"So I'd be immune. I see. Well, when he's not desperate to feed and heal himself, I'm sure he'll have more control over it. But really? What about your father in law? I mean, he's huge, he should be able to brush it right off!"

"Not my shit to talk about." Which was Holly's code for 'don't ask again or there will be blood'. One thing Pam could respect about the huntress was that moral code of not sharing other people's baggage.

Another weak moan sounded beside Pam. Not pain, but distress of some form. It reminded her of a helpless cub really. With a soft touch, Pam ran her hand gently down the mans back and shushed. "Listen... Pam. Ask for anything. ANYTHING you want in exchange. I owe this guy as much as I owe you." That was a dirty shot. Pam winced but thought it through. Was this man worth the trouble? Holly talked about him occasionally. Some incubus on a mission to prove himself more than just a hole. She tumbled the idea in her head, and consulted the impulsive, wild side of herself. The one that led her to the best herbs in the area, the one that called her to run and jump and enjoy life to the fullest.

Regardless of her hesitance, this was right. This was needed. It wasn't just the hormones talking. This man needed her, and it'd be a betrayal of everything she was to turn him away because it might be trouble. Finally, Pam nodded. She didn't want to ask for anything in return, but knew Holly would push for weeks if she waved the price. "Fine. You travel more than I do. Obviously. So if I leave you a list of medicinal plants and materials, will you bring them to me every chance you get?" Holly scrambled to produce paper and threw an alarming amount of pens down. Using the most beat up sheet of paper, she tested almost ten pens before she found one that still had good ink.

"I... Could just e-mail it to you. We have the wonders of cellphones you know." The werewolf spluttered.

Holly jabbed a finger in the air. "Pam. When you get beat up, tossed around, and impaled as often as I do. All phones are temporary."

"And paper lasts much better?" The resulting argument was exhilarating, but the patient in her home was growing restless from the heated energy flowing from both quickly angering women.

Pam sighed at last. "Fine. I don't have time to go through every book with you on this. So if I print off and mail the list to one of your safehouses. Will that be acceptable?" She groaned. Her golden eyes locked on her squirming charge. He needed somewhere quiet to rest. Fortunately she had a spare room she could let him have. Demons could make their own pocket dimensions as well, so it wasn't like he was going to impose much. If he was the kind of person Holly talked him up to be.

So there she was, grumbling while typing out every damn plant and animal she needed on her crappy old PC. She could afford the newest model. But really, she saw no point in buying new when the old one still worked. Don't replace what you don't need to, and you can save oodles.

All while she did this, a pot of fresh chicken soup bubbled happily in the background. Pam was aware incubi fed off sexual energy and souls alone, but she was also aware that they enjoyed human food on occasion. With that logic, she decided a shared bowl of comfort food was a given. After all, besides a few obvious answers, who could hate a good old bowl of salty sweet veggies and roast bird? She'd bring it in soon, and make sure he was awake and alert before leaving.

* * *

In the spare room. Sleat woke. He expected to be miserable, and his body to suddenly kick into survival mode so he'd enjoy it. Instead, he was numb, and bothered. He sat up to find himself tucked into soft quilts, and fuzzy flannel sheets. A note sat next to the overstuffed bed he found himself in. This was not a first for him. But it certainly wasn't the most unfavorable. Curiously he plucked up the letter. It was in simple, terrible handwriting. Hardly legible. His hyper senses picked up the deep musk and woodsy scent of a werewolf trapped in the rough texture of the parchment. Female. He shook his head to clear the food part of his brain out and focus on reading the damn note.

 _'Sleat. Holly brought you here to recover. Your laptop is to your right, in your bag. She said that was important. Do what ever you need to do to feed. But please keep in mind someone else is here. Call if you need anything. I have good hearing. -Pam'_ Alright. So he was in a safe house or with a trusted companion. Sleat hadn't spoken to Holly in... Shit. Almost thirty years. When that woman claimed a life debt, she meant it. Was she even still hunting? Certainly she would have aged in that time, humans always did. Still, it touched him that she even remembered who he was. He'd changed his visage so much from that time. There was a welcome glass of water beside the note, and though he didn't really need it, he drank. Who ever this Pam was, she was considerate.

He felt a little guilty, feeding from the home of a stranger. But with the right enchantments, he could keep it clean. He had enough energy for that. He dug through his bag while muttering spells under his breath. His tail arched in the air and flicked from side to side. Swinging his casts all over the room. He refused to mess up another person's home in the act. His body was feeling weaker and weaker. The last few spells were made to cover himself. Normally Sleat cared very little for clothing. Despite being an incubus, all his junk was tucked up internally. Well, depending on what it looked like. So there was no actual need for all that fluff and ruff.

His own chitinous plates were enough decoration upon his tangerine skin. They made for a beautiful contrast in his opinion, as they were a bright cheerful green. The most he ever bothered to wear was jewelry. Always with some form of red gemstone. Red. The colour of passion. As well as the only colour he actually had a choice in. Everything else was given to him by nature it's self.

He also made a point to take the form of a lithe human male. Running his hands over his over sensitive body. He hated losing the tail, and the horns. But he ran his account meticulously. And this little shape was one that people seamed to flock to. Technically, he was a concubus. But he'd be damned if anyone needed to know that. Making use of a convenient mirror in the room, he fixed the sandy blond hair he sported and blinked a few times. The solid gold colour of his eyes faded to a honeyed hazel. Then checked over his physical shape again. Was this right? Did he miss a detail from this persona?

Sleat sifted through his bag, cursing his aching bones. He pulled out his folder of faces and flicked through them. Stopping on the file for 'Cecil'. He read through it three times over and smiled. Right. The butterfly tattoo on the left hip. He'd almost missed it. Not long after, he made a few changes to the room. Small, but enough that it didn't look so identifiable. Any family photos, or, what he thought were personal photos, were tucked neatly away. Those were magically replaced with pictures of lilies or roses. He set the laptop up, and plugged in his attachment.

A concubus could feed off this alone. If they were smart. Get a large enough following on some porn streaming sight, and hit enough kinks. As long as he had that, and a small USB attachment, he could feed off his viewers lust indefinably. With a sigh, he leaned back. Fished three of his personal favorite toys out from his bag, and shuffled into a comfortable pose. It wasn't long until his chat filled up on his Fetish-Freaks account. He made a point to gag himself this time. That way he wouldn't annoy his hostess with his loud persona. He explained it away with some bullshit about being 'bad' or some shit. Horny people tended not to really care about the how and why.

As always, 'Cecil's' chat was on fire. Men, women, and eldritch beings alike were already flowing with requests. Many lining up with the kinks his current persona had. Some were... Well it was rare for him to use such a term, but downright vulgar. He waved those away with repeated answers of 'Daddy said not to make a mess.' 'Daddy' being some made up character he would duck behind as Cecil for anything he didn't really want to do. He lost count of how many people asked to see his hole in that time. But given the spikes of lust that would pour from his audience every time he did, he wasn't too bothered.

He showed off the toys he'd set aside for the day with the question _'Which one should I play with first?'_ waiting for the most popular reply. It was about then a knock sounded at the door, and he damn near choked on the gag. Frantically, he attempted to unfasten it and close the laptop before Pam caught him like this. Unfortunately, she didn't wait for a reply.

"Hey, don't want to intrude but I br-ouuuaaaaaa...."

* * *

Pam was NOT expecting what she'd walked into. She half expected him to still be passed out, by the lack of sound. Instead, she found her houseguest sprawled out in another form. The only reason she knew it was him was scent. About to lube up his ass, and surrounded by dildos and butt plugs. Some of which were actually the same model she used. Her eyes found the laptop, while her jaw remained dropped to her sternum. So he fed via cam shows. Awkwardly, the man on the bed pulled the gag from his mouth. Saucepan eyes met confusion incarnate.

Silently, she shuffled across the room and set the soup on the table beside the camera. Staying WELL out of shot. "I brought chicken soup. Excuse me." She left in a hurry.

* * *

Miserably, Sleat snagged the pillow behind him and screamed into it. What a way to make a first impression. Uncouth! Disgraceful! And down right disrespectful! When he glanced up to his chat, he found himself disgusted with his audience. Requests to know who she was, what she looked like, and if she could join kept jumping past. Eventually he grumbled. Stood, and took a step behind the camera. He logged onto the same account through his phone as 'daddy' and typed two words.

 _'Show's over.'_ He shut the stream down and changed back into his true form. Sitting mortified on the bed. He'd fed enough, at least, to snap his fingers and right the changes made to the room. In a furious rush, he dashed the offending sex toys into the bag, and dismantled his filming set up. He wasn't some stupid teenager with no manners! He had to make up for this. He rushed to pull on some decent clothing, just to feel less exposed around her, and stormed out of the room. Taking his bowl of soup with him. A deeper shade of orange dusted his cheeks as he did so. It took him a moment to find her.

Pam was... Not what he expected of a female werewolf. Most of them felt empowered and beautiful after their change. They often would do things to practically make themselves into models. Over compensating for their own beastly nature, but thinking they were, in fact, better for it. This woman's mind hummed quietly. As though she was comfortable in her own skin no matter what it was. She was spindly and pale. Her hair was cropped in an almost buzz cut up to it's peak. Where she left a fo-hawk dyed a brilliant white. Contrasting with her ebony.

Her eyes flicked up to him, and the same flustering blush hit her cheeks. "Oh no. I didn't ruin your stream, did I?" She stood hastily. Ruin it? RUIN IT?! He shouldn't have done it in the first place. Sleat cleared his throat and sat across from her, shaking his head. Before he jumped up and made a point to wash his hands. He plunked back down.

"Er. No. Not at all. I just... My chat was being crass about you and." No. That was just as bad. He sighed and dropped his head into his hands. "I must apologize. This- I- Ugh. I have already lived several life times. I should both know, and act better. And I wish to apologize for my behavior. It was disgusting and disrespectful and I know you didn't consent to that in your home. I-"

A firm hand patted his left horn. "Hey! It's not like- Ugh. Look. Didn't you read the note? I should have waited for a reply, but I knew you were going to feed as soon as you got up." He glanced up at her. The general feel from the werewolf was intense guilt and shame, reflecting his own. He just burst into a miserable laugh. 

"Okay. Okay so we're both deeply embarrassed by all this. Shall we introduce ourselves and start over?" He offered.

Pam burst into an awkward laugh and nodded. "Sure. It's a pleasure to meet you. Call me Pam. And... feel free to stay as long as you need." She offered her hand. So she went by a nickname and not an alias. Not a hunter then. No last name given. Oddly no magic clung to her chosen moniker, despite the comfort in which she used it. But that was typical of werewolves, at least the ones who embraced it. Names lost all meaning when it came to self identity. He was willing to bet he could call her 'white crested one' and it would cling like static to her being. 

"Sleat. Charmed, I'm sure." He gave his true name, while taking her hand. Giving no care to how she used it. He was a demon. Despite his species purpose, it wasn't as though he was less than anything bred from rage, gluttony or pride. He could still overpower most sorcerers that were disgraceful enough to use such a filthy exploit. Pam's smile was a shy thing, worn around the corners. It broke his heart to see, but the laugh lines near her eyes said that she wasn't an unhappy person. He filed that away and huffed. "So, you know Holly?"

That brought a spark to her eyes, and genuine joy ripped through her exhaustion. She burst into a chuckle. "Well. I wouldn't say I 'know' her. But we're acquainted. Unfortunately."

Always one for gossip, Sleat leaned in closer. "Oh do tell. How did you meet?"

Pam snorted in laughter, something Sleat found adorable, but stamped down. He just met this pup for heaven's sakes. More over, she just caught him acting like an impulsive fledgling in one of her own rooms. His eyes caught hers as she snickered. "Oh. Nothing much. She just spent three months trying to kill me. Only to find out she was hunting the wrong werewolf. Thankfully we smoothed it over and... It's because of her I can run my apothecary." She glanced around the room. Sleat grew interested to say the least.

"Apothecary? I would have expected this to be a safe house. But then, it does look so much... Hm. Homelier? Than that." His tail dragged lazily on the floor, tapping twice on each arc. Pam flushed a little.

"Well. Thanks. I do try." She shuffled her own bowl of soup and awkwardly took a little sip of the broth. Sleat could see the pride in her boil. He wondered if his natural pheromones were affecting her, but those were tucked firmly away. He'd fed. He had control. Was she just to shy to preen a little?

Pam sighed and leaned back after her drought of broth. "Um. Well I do live here as well. But I try to keep the rooms I work from pristine. After all. People come here to heal. Can't feel safe in a room filled with dust. What about you? Holly said you were her lawyer?"

Sleat blinked, then laughed. "Oh! Darling those days were over. Not long after Holly's case, actually. I didn't feel like I was doing any good there! I'm currently studying psychology. Hopefully I'm going to take up work as a therapist afterwards. Use my innate abilities for something other than arguing technicalities professionally." He waved a hand, then decided to at least try the comforting 'meal' in his hands. With a tentative spoonful, he sipped at the salty broth. The actual food still tasted off, almost like ash. Not that he spent much time past infancy eating ash. But there was emotion put into this cooking. That, he could taste. It was warm, and comforting. An urge to make things better. To do something good. It mingled well with the light, airy mood that was settling like fresh snow over them.

It was a delicacy. Food cooked with kindness. It was why he only ate homecooked foods if he ever tasted mortal cooking. "I think we're of the same mind. In that regard. If your cooking is any indication." Sleat laughed. Pam just shook her head.

"You can freaking taste that?" She sniggered.

Sleat shook his head with a smirk. "That, and many other things. You were worried when you made this, but had nothing but pure intent. And if the finest little hints are anything to judge by, you only want to do help." His tail turned to flicking happily, something Pams eyes subtly caught, but she turned back to her soup. It made sense. "So you were born a werewolf then." He commented. Given her acceptance of her very being, it wasn't hard to catch. However, Pams jaunty laughter broke his confidence as she shook her head.

"Don't know what gave you that impression. But no... I'm turned." She admitted with a wry smile. Sleat spluttered.

"I don't believe you! No turned wolf is that comfortable in their own skin." He enthused. Pam just gave a shrug, and placed her empty bowl in her sink. Hips swinging confidently as she walked. "No... Oh my gods!" It was appropriate to call her grin 'wolfish' as the woman leaned against the counter, arms folded. He mirrored it. Now, now this human Wolf was a mystery. One that Sleat HAD to explore. He hadn't felt this kind of rush in quite some time.


	2. Things explode here.

Pam was earnest in her offer to allow Sleat to stay. However, he felt it more appropriate to hang out in his own pocket dimension. It was the home he'd built for himself. His sanctuary, his private get away from the hustle and bustle. Even if it was meant to be a trap for unsuspecting prey. An old, tired routine. Even if he did still keep a few old catches around from his 'glory' days. Besides. He had a pet there. With skilled hands, he sliced a fresh batch of tilapia into little, bite sized fingers. He'd kept the same line of merfolk in his home for almost six generations now.

Picking his favorite hatchlings from each batch. It was also a perfect way to feed in a pinch. Introduce a merman to a mate and just passively enjoy your meal. With careful fingers, he tickled the surface of the water until the turquoise scales of his pet glimmered to the surface. It also helped that these things were less than intelligent. Trainable, but it took repeated sessions and diligence to retain anything. Solid black eyes poked from the water, and the flat faced creature surfaced only a little until it's nostrils opened to take in air. "There's my good boy. Num nums~" He dropped the first little bite into the water for the creature to take.

It snapped the morsel up and rolled onto it's back. Sleat shook his head with a laugh. He placed the rest of the strips within reach of his pet. "Not today my dear. No tricks this time." This was a change up in the routine. He wasn't in the mood. His attention was more on his appointment for the day. He made a point to shadow his new 'room mate' and learn about her social life. As it turned out, she had a small circle. Which was odd for a werewolf. But then, the people she knew were close to her. He could sense it. Two were fellow werewolves. Pack. One... One Sleat hadn't met yet.

It was interesting to meet Pam's pack though. There was an awkward tension between her and the orc. Grigore was it? They had a history, but neither could speak of it. The dwarf was an interesting character. She seamed to snap up any chance to flirt with Sleat himself. Though he enjoyed the company of dwarves in the past, he wasn't exactly ready to take on a dwarven woman again. They were just a little much for him. That was the cost of being a subterrestrial species with a penchant for drink. It always brought out the most bombastic nature in it's residents.

Pam certainly had a type to surround herself with. Unusual was the word. He wondered if that was part of her quiet acceptance of her turning. It made her just as odd as the rest. Her mind was muddled, but she stood firm as a river stone. Just letting the torrents her friends brought drag over and smooth her out. If she was troubled, she didn't speak it. Something Sleat didn't see her friends addressing. Wasn't a pack supposed to support her? It was mystery upon mystery and he was enjoying the sensation of picking it apart and learning what made this clock tick. This last friend might be the answer.

So when he stepped out of his little bubble, he was surprised to be passed a helmet and bullet proof vest. "Roxy's... eccentric. Can't put her work down for five minutes." Pam chuckled fondly. There was something there. A longing he caught, could practically taste. It made the more predatory part of his mind spark hungerly to life. He shoved that thought down violently. He wasn't some licentious brute. Firmly, he followed her every step to a small workshop across the street and up the road a bit. Something about the town she chose to reside in. You could always walk to your neighbor. A bit tight for his taste. But then, he could see that need for community.

As if on que, something let off a horrid snap, a bang, then he found himself ducking a loose sawblade that managed to rip through a heavy garage door. Pam was faster than she looked, as she yanked him by the shoulders out of the way. Shrapnel spluttered out after the blade. A sharp call of "HEADS UP" was the only warning he got for a tire iron to come careening after the mess. Wisely, he shuffled his helm and vest on.

Pam let off a small huffing laugh and knocked on the door to the garage. "Is it safe now?"

"Mostly. I think I screwed the tension a little." To Sleat's surprise. The woman that exited the garage was small. Slender, and only a little taller than himself. He did come off as petite. She was toned, strong, and had the hands of someone who worked iron all day. But that didn't diminish her feminine side. As she chose clothing that accentuated rather than covered. Several pinched marks dotted her mocha skin from where sparks splattered in little patterns. Fascinatingly, she had bright auburn hair that was tied up in a tight bun. Sleat would use the term 'exotic' for this one. Especially as she was just a hollow body. Her soul was nowhere to be felt or seen.

She was no Lich. But she was something. Sleat still offered his hand in earnest and smiled brightly. "It's a pleasure to meet you miss Roxanne. Please call me Sleat. Pam has spoken highly of you." In the week he'd known her, at least.

"He's been staying with me all week. Holly dropped him on me, but he's chill." Pam cleared up easily as Roxy took his hand. Warm. Alive. So she wasn't undead.

The redhead nodded and turned to her friend. There was a spark there. A knowing between them. As Sleat suspected, this was the last piece of his little puzzle. He found that Pam had slipped into an easy smirk and shrug. "Well. You know me so I don't need to bother with names. Not sure what a damn incubus has to do with Holly. But well. Copperhilts will fuck anything."

"To be fair. They say the same about both of us." Pam sniggered. This caused Sleats jaw to drop.

He stammered a bit as the pair entered the garage, him close behind. "Excuse me but what?" He flushed.

Pam pancaked a hand in the air as she began picking up some of Roxy's heavier equipment. Falling into an easy rhythm as the other woman worked. Hand this tool there. Lift that here. "We've had our wild nights. And we don't really discriminate."

Sleat nodded slowly. "Ah. So you two are together then." Mystery solved. If Pam was pair bonded to this woman, it would make perfect sense she was more confident. It's easier to accept one's self when you are loved entirely. That was, until Roxy screamed in rage and swerved around on him.

"Not you too! Why does every one assume we're dating? No. We're not... Like _that_. Pam's been my friend since childhood. Setting aside the fact that I don't like women in that way. It'd be like dating my sister!" She huffed. Pam gave a short chuckle. Turning to a small refrigerator in the corner. She cracked a beer for her friend. A soda for herself. Now Sleat was confused. He eyed the werewolf as she handed the drink over, and offered him a can of both. He took the soda and sat down on a worn old stool. His eyes followed their interactions as the trio spoke about inane things.

They had an easiness between them that came from years of knowing one another. However, it was true that Roxy showed no interest in Pam romantically. Pam seamed to act with quiet acceptance and suddenly, his heart ached for her. She lost herself in the medicinal taste of grape soda. Something he wasn't too sure about. Sleat himself had been given rootbeer, so what was the point in torturing herself with such an aweful flavor? He was going to invade that woman's kitchen and show her what fine dining was. It was the least he could do for her kindness. Perhaps he could take her out clubbing and find a partner for her.

Just let the stoic woman unwind a bit. Pams eyes fell on him. Golden, sharp, and suddenly intense. As though she read his mind. "Anyways." the paler woman drawled. "It's not like either of us are starving for attention. Plenty of guys around here think they're hot shit. Human bravado at it's best." She took another sip. "Too bad they're usually drunk off their asses."

Roxy burst into laughter. Leaning back on her latest project. She downed the last of her beer and glanced at Pam. "Well, you could cut loose a little you know?" To this the other woman scoffed and retrieved a fresh can for each of them. Again with the grape soda for herself. She shook her head.

"Nah. I'm happy as is. Besides. You wouldn't drink that stuff either if you had my nose. It's a rancid blast to the face!" Pam snorted. Sleat bubbled into a giggle. Perhaps she had a point there. If she didn't personally smell test every medicine she brewed. She said it had subtle differences in scent when it was done right or wrong. And he wasn't inclined to disagree. His own senses were cued in on prey and potential mates. Hers were tuned for survival, and yes, hunting, but also detecting poison, or illness.

The room fell into a companionable silence as the women worked, and Sleat attempted to help. As it turned out, he had a thing or two to learn about mechanics. Especially now that cultures decided to blend magic and machine. If it weren't for the fact that Roxy was adept at it, he would have thought it impossible to learn in a human life span. She flicked her fingers between the wiring and gears, tinkered with the stronger parts, and wove spells he'd never heard cast before. Pam mostly just held things in place and did the heavy lifting. It was as though the pair were two cogs in the same machine.

It wasn't long until they parted. Pam pleasantly cleansed of some invisible weight, for the most part. Sleat, more perplexed. When they returned to Pam's clinic, Sleat turned her to face him. "Alright. There's something up with you. It's human nature to bond with others and communicate. Doubly so for werewolves. But you... You isolate yourself. You bond with a few but never spend all your time with them. You're clearly not mated. And you're not happy." He folded his arms. Pam bared her teeth in a rare show of anything lythrocopic about her.

Her voice had a lowered pitch, and her eyes fixed with an intense stare that actually made him feel small. Height difference aside. "Don't push this one." Was all she said before mellowing out again. Like she'd only been capable of a brief show of anger. She sighed and shook her head. Tamping down the last of her instincts. Before long, she made her way to the small kitchen, and started her kettle for tea. Something the pair had shared every night now. Sleat shuffled into the same room and sat at the table. Perhaps a direct approach was a bit much.

"I'm sorry. It's just... When you're an incubus, you can feel the needs, wants, and emotions of others. I can feel that you want to help. But there's some pain there you aren't showing even your closest friends." He tried.

* * *

"Sleat. If this is your approach to therapy, it's a piss poor one. Let people talk on their own time." Pam bit out. She poured the water into their cups, and let the teabags steep while staring into the twin pools. Watching as they shifted from clear to a blood red. Red. The colour of food. The colour of the hunt, of passion, of raw exertion. Her teeth ached to have something fresh and squirming under them. Her bones ached from the lack of transformation for the last while. Too busy to take the time for herself. Too busy to center her mind. And now this pompous pest was digging into her emotional state.

"Pam. You sheltered me while I healed. And you don't know it, but you're sheltering me from much more. I just want to return this kindness you've shown. What can I do?" He sounded hesitant. He smelled insincere. Yet, she humored him.

"I haven't shifted in a while. That's it. My pack probably sees it. They know the smell of pain." The pain, the fear, the feel of bone breaking under her teeth. It reminded her of fresh rabbit. Her mouth watered. She needed to get out and hunt.

Sleat shifted behind her before he hummed softly. "Do... Do you want me to watch the clinic for you?" She paused, glancing back at him. His tail arched happily up and to the left as he spoke. "I spent a good few years as a doctor. So I know many of your recipes already, and you have plenty of books I can scry in the meantime. If I can't deal with something, I'll just call you back!"

Pam eyed him carefully. There was no lie in the air this time. And she did want to run and romp like an ordinary werewolf. To ground herself and enjoy it. She nodded. "Fine. Tonight. If you don't mind watching the house." Sleat's grin grew and she knew he was up to something. But it didn't raise her hackles. Nothing malicious seamed to be happening.

"But if you're still not feeling well, I'm going to do ~everything~ in my power to make you smile. Genuinely smile." He sing songed. Tail flicking in time with his voice.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something for fun. I was experimenting with these two characters and their dynamic is just kind of...Chill to say the least. I enjoy having these two interact.  
> They both just want the same thing out of a relationship, and somehow they matched up.
> 
> But as is the nature when you're writing incubi/sucubi/concubi things get a little kinky between them. I should also mention. Sleat is male, but as an incubus, he's able to change forms, and well, bits. Technically he's a concubus but same can be said of his entire species.


End file.
